


Hunger

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, F/M, Light BDSM, Somnophilia, Verbal Humiliation, fem!Bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfrid has always hungered for the unknown, and the unattainable. Fill for Hobbit Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for prompt: _Alfrid has his way with sleeping or unconscious f!Bard._  
>  _He could be either very gentle, pretending they're in love or very rough, fulfilling his revenge fantasy. ___  
> This is a pretty messed up fic, Alfrid has some issues so please beware of the warnings.

There were few temptations in the world that Alfrid was able to resist when they were open to him. Be it the power he gained by boot-licking the Master, the gold offered to him by the richer inhabitants in exchange for certain legal liberties, or the women who's company he could buy with said overflowing gold. Perhaps it was overcompensation for all he had gone without growing up, the hunger for the unknown, but the reason behind it was irrelevant.  
  
Alfrid was aware he had few qualities people would consider redeeming, and restraint was in no danger of becoming one of them any time soon.  
  
So, even though he understood how unwise of a decision it was, it was inevitable that when he found himself presented with an unconscious Bard locked in a cell, he would eventually dismiss the guards and enter the cell with the impurest of intentions. Bard was laid on her back in a corner on the floor, out for the count, in only her baggy pants, boots and loose fit tunic. Alfrid couldn't help but notice that, even now, there was an almost effortless air of dignity surrounding her that aroused and angered him in equal measure.  
  
His relationship with the barge-woman could generously be described as antagonistic. She was a proud, strong, honourable and kind woman who was generous to a fault. Alfrid was a weak willed, greedy, selfish man with little left in the way of dignity. The person who came up with the adage that people of opposite natures attracted one another was sorely mistaken as their differences caused bristling that frequently bordered on violent. In fact, Alfrid had no doubt that, if presented with the opportunity to punch Alfrid in the face without endangering her job and ability to feed her children, she would take it without pause.  
  
For Alfrid, however, it was a little more complicated than that. Oh sure, he loathed this woman completely, there was no doubt about that. He hated her both for how difficult she made his job with her constant, quiet rebellion, and for how _lesser_ she made him feel in their interactions. He could handle her thinking it, most did, but the fact that she could make _him_ feel that he was so far beneath her that he barely deserved to look at her beautiful face infuriated him. Oh how he longed to show this woman how high he could rise, or rather, how low he could make her sink.  
  
And there was where it got complicated, because as angry and frustrated she could make him feel, he found he _craved_ it. Craved her. He thrilled every time her disgust-filled gaze fell on him. His heart skipped a beat every time he caught sight of her in the market from his hiding place in a darkened corner. And he became over-come with lust whenever he had the privilege to slap handcuffs on her and feel the warmth of her slim but strong hands. She infected every facet of him from his anger to his lust. From his craving for power to his need for weakness.  
  
From his hatred to his love.

But now, before him, laid the object of his torment. Her face was relaxed and peaceful in her unconsciousness. A slight furrow in her brow betrayed the fact that she wasn't sleeping, but had been knocked out rather violently by the Master himself. She truly was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman in Laketown, and Alfrid felt he could get drunk on this new ability he had, to study her features up close without pause.  
  
Settling himself gently on the floor beside her, Alfrid slowly extended a shaking hand towards Bard, pressing his fingers to her collarbone and feeling the warmth of her skin. Licking his lips, Alfrid steadily trailed his fingers lower and lower until they finally rested over the soft flesh of her modest breast. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Alfrid laid his whole hand over the mound of flesh and squeezed slightly.  
  
_'Gods she feels incredible.'_  
  
Rapidly losing his patience and control, Alfrid lowered himself over her until his nose tickled with her dark hair and inhaled that heavenly scent. How a woman who made a career of hard labour and fishing could smell so good was a mystery, but Alfrid was not about to complain. Rising slightly, Alfrid's breathing grew unsteady and his eyes traced the contours of her sweet, pink lips. How long he had imagined sampling the taste of her, of devouring her smart mouth until he couldn't breath. And now he could, it was all before him, there for his taking. An almost overwhelming surge of heat spread from his chest into his groin as he realised the reality of what was happening. After so much time, he was finally going to get what he so craved.  
  
With a subdued groan, Alfrid closed the distance and pressed his chapped lips to Bard's softer ones, his hand still rubbing slow circles into the beautiful breast in his grip. Melting into the contact, Alfrid lowered himself further, uncurling his legs from beneath him and almost laying over the prone body. The lack of response from Bard to the kiss didn't bother Alfrid as much as he had suspected it would. Certainly, the image of making Bard beg for him, desire him, was an enticing one but it was one he knew wouldn't ever happen. Besides, there was something so intoxicating about Bard's helplessness, about his complete power over her at that moment.  
  
Parting their lips for a moment, Alfrid wasted not one moment before closing his wet lips over Bards again in a deeper caress that made him audibly moan. This time, he used the movements of his lips against Bards to part them slightly, just enough for Alfrid to push his tongue into the moist mouth and touch it against Bards.  
  
White hot pleasure shot through Alfrid's body at the touch and he moaned again while moving his body to completely cover Bards. Using his hands to part long legs, never breaking contact with the intoxicating mouth he was currently ravishing, Alfrid settled between them and ground his clothed, stiff cock against her hot centre. This time the noise that escaped him was more of a whine than anything else, the pleasure coursing through him so much more intense than any he had felt before. Holding himself up by his forearms, pressed their bodies tightly together, revelling in the feel of Bards breasts pressed against him, even with both of them fully clothed.  
  
His thrusting turned rhythmic as he thrust his tongue into the warm and wet mouth currently at his mercy over and over again, the dual sensations leaving Alfrid moaning and whining with every movement. He was so completely lost to the pleasure, to the novelty of what he was doing, that he barely registered the words escaping his lips in a hushed whisper.  
  
“You're all mine now, my love. All _mine_ , you hear me? I'll make you scream, make you beg. Make you nothing, all you'll be is mine. My little whore. My whore. My _love._ ”

His grinding became more forceful then, his hands acting almost of their own accord to grab slender wrists and pin them to the ground by the side of her head to give himself an even greater sense of power. The dark hair fanned out over the wood getting tangled beneath her hands. He thought of tearing her clothes off, spreading her open to him and sinking into that delicious warmth but even when mad with desire he knew he couldn't. Bard wouldn't be locked up forever and she would surely know if she had been penetrated. Alfrid hated Bard, and loved her too, but he was still afraid of her. If she knew what he'd done she'd slaughter him and most of Laketown would help her.  
  
Besides, as he circled his hips against her clothed pussy, certain he could feel the warmth of her sex against the ridge of his cock even through their layers, and knew he likely wouldn't last long enough to strip her. He already felt his climax building in the pit of his stomach, so Alfrid simply closed his eyes and enjoyed what he could of the maddening woman beneath him.  
  
Tightening the grip on her wrists and speeding up the movements on his hips, Alfrid moved back and abandoned kissing Bard in favour of crudely swiping his tongue over and inside her slack lips. He was desperate to memorise her taste. He thought forward to what it would be like, to pass Bard in the streets, to see that same disdainful glare directed towards him and to know what he had stolen from her. Something she'd never give him willingly, something she would have no idea that he took.  
  
As he imagined the feeling of superiority and power he would feel over her in that moment, to know that he'd never again feel lesser in her presence, the satisfaction of it combined with the ecstasy of his movements against her to push him over into a mind shattering climax.  
  
As his orgasm washed over him, overwhelming him, Alfrid buried his face into her shoulder and bit at her tunic to keep from crying out. He rode it out with circling motions, pressing his pulsating cock harder against the hot body beneath him and pushed down harder on his grip on Bards wrists.  
  
As the pleasure seeped from his body, it took with it any strength he might have hand and he collapsed against the lithe body that lay still under him, panting and sweaty. He would have stayed there for hours if left to his own devices, but instead he was filled with panic as he felt slight shifting through the muscles of Bards body.  
  
She was coming too.  
  
Scrambling desperately, Alfrid ignored the stickiness in his pants as he jumped up and ran out of the door, closing and locking it as quietly as he could to avoid her knowing he was ever in there. He looked in through the bars and saw that he had succeeded as Bard was only just beginning to move, groaning in pain. When she opened her eyes, they fell immediately on Alfrid and much to his dismay, the thrill he usually felt through his body when she looked at him was not only still present but _much_ stronger.  
  
“Why are you watching me?” Bard asked, voice stern despite being gravelly from just awakening.  
  
Steeling himself, Alfrid forced his voice to be steady as he answered, “Waiting for you to wake your lazy arse up of course.”  
  
She sneered at him in response but didn't answer. As she pushed herself up with her hands, Alfrid felt panic take him once again and she winced and rubbed at her wrists, right where he'd held her down, shooting a questioning glare at Alfrid.  
  
He'd gripped her too tight in his passion, he should have known.  
  
By some miracle, he was spared detection from the suspicious prisoner when a deafening, inhuman howl sounded from outside. A look of pure fear fell over Bards features as she shot up with a wince and darted to the window. He heard her gasp and moved over to the window outside the cells to see for himself what was happening.  
  
As he laid eyes upon the great, winged beast that was descending upon the town, fountains of fire spewing from it's maw, Alfrid found himself questioning for the first time in his life the existence of karma.


End file.
